The Dead-Armed Boy in Room 602
by CrazyCabernet
Summary: Fiyero is, in his own words, a depressed nutcase with a dead arm. Elphaba is, in her own words, a green-skinned freak of an intern who just wants to try to help people. He's been in the asylum for two years now. She's only just arrived. He's known since the injury that caused it that he'll never be able to use his arm again, but could a bit of love be all it takes to heal his mind?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Okay, so I recently read this FANTASTIC book called _Ashes on the Waves, _which is based on my 2nd favorite poem by Edgar Allan Poe, _Annabel Lee, _and it uses a ton of awesome Celtic mythology and stuff as major plot points and elements, I very highly recommend it, but anyway...**

**The main character whose POV it's told from, Liam MacGregor? One of his arms was completely paralyzed from something that happened during his birth, and so he's got this "dead arm" that's completely useless, and when Anna touches it at one point, it talks about how he wishes so much that he could feel her touch on the skin, but he can't, so not only is unable to move or use this arm, he can't even feel anything that's done to it. (For anyone wondering, towards the end of the book, he eventually was told by a doctor that it looked like a case of Erb's palsy, and that he'd never seen it confined to just one arm, but Liam was very lucky because usually people who have it are completely unable to feel or move an entire side of their body.) And then for some reason, I was absolutely fascinated with the idea of a limb being "dead," so to speak, and my mind started racing and eventually ended up spitting this out at me, so here you go. :)**

**DISCLAIMER: I'm limping right now. That's what I own. A limp and the virtual candle that I lit for Cory Monteith. *goes and cries in a corner***

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**Name:** Tigelaar, Fiyero Daethien  
**Sex:** M  
**Age:** 19  
**Height:** 6'2"  
**Weight:** 127 lbs.  
**Eye color:** BLU  
**Hair color:** BR  
**Ethnicity:** Vinkun (Arjiki; see below for more information)  
**Date of birth:** 5/17/83  
**Symptoms:** Depression, masochisim, hysterical fits of unprovoked anger, potential danger to self and others  
**Disabilites, handicaps, etc.:** Entire left arm is completely and permanently paralyzed (see below for more information)

**Background information:** Fiyero is, by birth, the Crown Prince of the ruling Vinkun tribe, the Arjikis. He is the only son of King Reynard and Queen Zerelda Tigelaar, with an estranged twin sister named Sarima and a younger one named Niobe, the latter of whom he was very close to. Unfortunately, about two years ago, Niobe fell ill with tuberculosis and died, after which Fiyero was inconsolable, and his grief affected him in a way that often left him feeling confused and lonely. Over time, this evolved into an increasingly dark and downward spiral of depression, and the lonely confusion turned into hysterical tantrums that begin at the drop of a pin for absolutely no reason to speak of.

During one such episode, he somehow managed to topple a very heavy amoire, which ended up landing on his left arm, leaving it completely paralyzed; he will never be able to use, feel, or move that arm again for the remainder of his life. Currently, Fiyero is the only patient who must be kept under constant sedation, and the only one who we are forced to put in a straightjacket on a regular basis; on occasion, he must also be placed in a padded room, strapped down, etc. Because of his unexpected and unpredictable outbursts, it was decided shortly after his arrival that it would be too risky to place Fiyero with a roomate. Instead, he was assigned to room #602, which is one of only three or four rooms in the building designed to house only one person, usually someone either more volatile or delicate than most, such as is the case with Fiyero.

There is nothing in the room but a bed, a window, and a nightstand, which, in order to prevent him from harming himself on corners, is round. In the small cubby space of this nightstand, he is permitted to keep up to four books of his choice at one time, all of which were among the things his parents left for him. There are more books in storage with the rest of his things, and he is allowed to ask to have one book traded for another at any time and as often as he wishes. He knows which books are with his things, and from what we can tell, he has a mental roster of sorts that allows him to keep track of them all. This is not surprising, as he is a very intelligent individual, which is evidenced by the marks he received from his tutors when he was younger, as well as their notes and remarks on his performance.

Along with his books, he is allowed to keep a small plastic bin with pieces of charcoal and graphite in it, which he has permission to use to draw on the walls of his room. This is one of the ways he copes with things; being able to draw people and places that he remembers from home, particularly his sister, helps him relax and come to terms with certain things. Once every week or two, while Fiyero is out of his room for any given reason, someone will go into his room and wash the walls to remove the drawings. Fiyero is aware that this happens, and is okay with it because he is aware that if the drawings weren't erased every so often, he would eventually run out of room to make new ones, and he doesn't like the thought of that happening any more than he likes the fact that he can no longer feel or use his arm. Even though he is heavily sedated most of the time, if you can find something that holds his interest, he is able to carry on not only normal conversations with you, but depending on the topic, he may also carry on conversations of a much deeper level and longer period of time, though due to a combination of his mental state and the sedation, he does sometimes tend to lose focus and get a bit confused.

Medically speaking, Fiyero is in excellent health except for his paralyzed arm, or, as he himself calls it, his "dead" arm. His immune system functions as it should, as do his respritory, digestive, cardiovascular, and nervous systems, along with most of his other systems, abilities, functions, etc. He has excellent medical history, although one major point of interest is that when he was about eight or nine years old, he came down with mononucleosis, and he does have occasional flare-ups, which need to be confirmed as such and given the proper treatment by a medically trained professional, who can be contacted as needed via the same standardly used methods as for the case of any other ill patient.

**Additional notes:** Willing and able to speak, socialize, carry on conversations, etc., but prefers to keep to himself more often than not. Spends much of his time in his room either drawing on the walls, reading, staring off into space, or picking at loose threads on his clothes, blankets, and sheets. Has difficulty trusting others and doesn't like to talk about himself, his past, or his family, so much of what we know about him came to us through his parents, various other relatives, tutors, and physician. Will occasionally wake up in the middle of the night screaming and crying, leading us to believe that since his initial check-in, his mind has further deteriorated in some way that causes him to suffer nightmares, most likely about his sister and/or paternal grandmother, with whom he was also very close. Has a bit of a morbid streak that stems from his depression and, as an extension, grief, so if and when speaking to him, if he begins to move things down a dark path, steer him away from it as quickly as possible, otherwise depression may worsen, running the risk of suicidal thoughts and/or behavior, prevention of which is crucial for his particular case.

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**AN: So, yeah, there's the background on what exactly is going on here. This chapter is pretty much supposed to be like if you were looking at the file that they've got on him at this place, so that's why it's written the way it is, but the next chapter will be written normally, I promise. PX **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Okay...so one of my RP friends on Facebook apparently found this story, lol! Anyway, Kat, I'm assuming that you're reading this, and if you are, then you are going to recognize someone mentioned from our RP with each other, but I changed his last name to something that sounds more Ozian than what it is on FB, and I just wanted to let you know before you got to that part so that you didn't get all confused or whatever, so, yeah, just thought I should let you know real quick, haha!**

**Anyway, even though the first chapter only got three reviews, they were all positive, and Fiyero got some sympathy, all that kinda good stuff, so, yeah. Um, also, I will be posting links to Elphaba's locket as well as Glinda's ring for anyone who wants to see them. So, uh...yeah. I think that's about it, so I'll just go ahead and do the disclaimer, then shut up and let you read, haha!**

**DISCLAIMER: My people (the Scots) have a poem called "Ye Cannae Shove Yer Granny Aff a Bus!" Well, guess what? Jist as ye cannae shove yer granny aff a bus, Ah, unfortunately, cannae say Ah ain Wicked ur onie ay its characters.****  
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Eighteen-year-old Elphaba Thropp gripped the handle of her suitcase tightly as she gazed up in nervous awe at the building that stood behind the gates in front of her—the Ozma Memorial Psychiatric Hospital for the Mentally Ill. Today was the first day of an internship she had dreamed of for so long and worked so hard to earn. Starting today, she would finally be able to begin working towards her lifetime goal of helping as many people as she possibly could in any way she was able to do so. And, with what had happened to her aunt and sister, what better way to start making progress toward that goal than with an internship as a nurse at a psychiatric hospital?

As she made her way up the front walk and got closer to the doors, she could see a petite blonde girl in a nurse's uniform standing on the front steps. When Elphaba reached the bottom of the steps, the girl smiled brightly at her. "Hi there!" she said. "You must be the new intern! My name is Galinda, but everybody calls me Glinda on account of a friend mispronounced my name when we were little and it ended up sticking as a nickname." Elphaba returned the blonde's smile and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she took the hand that was offered. "Elphaba," she said, "and yes, I'm the new intern."

"Great, then follow me and I'll show you around! Oh, um, before we get started, though, I should probably tell you that some of the people here...well...it can be very heartbreaking sometimes." Elphaba sighed and nodded. "I know," she said. "I've got a bit of...shall we say, personal experience with this sort of thing, as well as physical handicaps. But that's part of why I want to do this. I want to help people as much as I can, because I wasn't able to help my sister like I should have when she needed me most, and I'm going to have to live with the guilt of that for the rest of my life, so...I guess part of me is under the belief that maybe I can somehow redeem myself a little if I'm able to help other people who are...you know...the way Nessa was."

Glinda nodded sympathetically. "Well, I'll tell you right now that there aren't really any physical handicaps here, at least not any major ones." She stopped walking for a brief moment and furrowed her brow. "Although there is one," she said thoughtfully, and Elphaba's ears perked up a bit with interest. "Who?" she asked. Glinda shook her head, blonde curls bouncing as she took hold of Elphaba's arm and pulled her closer.

"You didn't hear this from me," she said in a low voice, "but there's a patient on the sixth floor named Fiyero. He's nineteen, and I've heard that he's a prince, but I don't know if it's true or not. Anyway, based on what I've heard, the way I understand it is his parents put him in here about two years ago after he did something that completely paralzyed his entire arm, and he hasn't been able to use it at all since then, and if what I've heard is true, he'll never be able to use it again. They call him the Dead-Armed Boy. You just have to promise that you won't go around repeating any of this stuff, alright? I don't know how much of it is true and how much is just talk, and I don't want either of us to get in trouble. Hell, to be totally honest, I'm not even sure if the guy is real or somebody on the staff just made him up for kicks! I've never heard any specific room number, I've never come across any files or records with his name or anything about a paralyzed arm, I don't even know what he looks like, supposedly or otherwise! Promise you won't repeat any of it. Please promise me!"

"I promise," Elphaba said, and Glinda smiled as the tension left her small body. "Thank you," she said. Switching back to normal volume, she asked, "So tell me a little about yourself!" Elphaba shrugged. "What's there to tell?" she said, but at the look she got from Glinda, she decided to humor the other girl. "Well," she said, "I'm eighteen as of this past March, I was born and raised at the mansion in Colwen Grounds, Munchkinland—I don't like to make a big fuss over it or anything, and you shouldn't either, but my father is the Governor of Munchkinland, Frexspar Thropp. Um...I'm his first daughter, but middle child, I've got an older brother, and the sister I mentioned before is younger." She sighed and shook her head. _"...Was..._younger," she amended. "Nessarose _was _younger than me. She's, uh...She's not around anymore. She didn't die or anything, she just...I don't like to talk about it, it's hard for me because I feel...I feel like what happened to her was—is—my fault, and so I just...Anyway...

"My mother died not long after what happened with Nessa, my brother started traveling so much that we rarely ever see or hear from him anymore, and my father just ignores me for the most part these days. That's really it. Well, except for my mother's sister. I'm named after her, my middle name. Anyway, Aunt Sophelia...Honestly, we're still not entirely sure what happened to her. I barely remember her because it happened when Momma was pregnant with Nessa, and I was only about two or three at the time, but...I just...I don't know.

"All we've ever really known with absolute certainty is that for some unknown reason, Aunt Sophie just suddenly went stark, raving mad one day out of pretty much nowhere and with absolutely no explanation to speak of. She was unmarried, and both my maternal grandparents were dead by then, and she and Momma had no uncles or aunts, so her fate was basically left in my mother's hands unexpectedly, and even though she didn't want to and she tried everything she could think of to prevent it from having to happen, she was eventually left with no choice but to institutionalize my aunt. So Aunt Sophie was checked into some obscure sanitarium or something in Munchkinland, and about two years later, the place burned to the ground, and as far as anyone knew or still does know, Aunt Sophie was still inside when it burned down, so up until recently, we've all believed that she died that day, but not long before the whole thing with Nessa got started, we were given reason to believe that she somehow may have survived and has spent the last...fifteen, sixteen, seventeen years or so just wandering around out there doing Oz knows what with herself. That's another reason I want to do this. It's sort of a...family history sort of thing, I guess you could call it."

"In that case," a voice said, "see to it that you don't give me a reason to assign you a room of your own here."

Glinda's hand flew up to grab Elphaba's arm, bringing the taller girl to a halt as sudden as her own. Elphaba noticed that Glinda's blue eyes were like saucers, and her entire body seemed to have become absolutely rigid and her back was ramrod straight. Forcing a composed expression back onto her face along with as natural a smile as she could manage, Glinda slowly turned around, keeping her hand on Elphaba's arm the entire time so that the green girl turned along with her.

The voice, she discovered, belonged to an older woman who, based on her clothing, seemed to be a nurse like the girls, but of a higher station, perhaps. She had steel gray eyes and curly white hair pulled into a tight bun on top of her head, which, along with her bad and much-too-heavy make-up, accentuated the sharp angles and features of her face. "Nurse Morrible!" Glinda chirped. "What a...an _unexpected _surprise! How are you on this fine day?"

The older woman narrowed her eyes at the blonde before directing her attention back to Elphaba. "I take it you're Miss Thropp?" she said. Elphaba blinked. "Y-Yes, ma'am," she said.

"Good," the woman said. "I've been expecting you for some weeks now. I am Nurse Morrible, and you will be under my authority during your time here, is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Elphaba said quietly. Morrible nodded. "Good," she said. "In that case, Nurse Arduenna here will show you to the nurses' dormitories. After you've had a chance to settle yourself in a bit, you are to report to my office. Once I have made sure that you are familiar with the rules here, I will introduce you to the nurse you'll be shadowing. I expect you not to give her any trouble."  
"Yes, ma'am," Elphaba said, and again, Morrible nodded. "Good. In that case, I will see you shortly. Good day to you both."

"Who was that?" Elphaba asked once Morrible was gone. Glinda shuddered. "That was Morrible," she replied. "She's the head nurse around here. Believe me, you do _not _want to get on her bad side. Ugh! I get the heebie-jeebies just thinking about that woman, she's more terrifying than a kalidah that's joined forces with a dragon! Anyway, the dormitories are down this hall, and the room I'm in is the fifth one on the left. That's actually why I met you outside." Glinda's face turned pink as she looked down a bit shyly at her feet. "I was told last week that I'd be getting a roomate, and when I overheard that you'd be getting here today, I was absolutely determined to be the first person to welcome you because, well...I've never had a roomie before, and I just...I wanted to make sure we got off on the right foot and that I didn't screw this up the way I've screwed up some of my friendships in the past."

Elphaba blinked at the word "friendship," surprised to hear it from the blonde's mouth. "I...Th-Thank you, Glinda," she said. "I don't...I don't know what to say, I mean...I've never had a friend before." Glinda frowned. "You mean...ever? In your life?" she asked. Elphaba nodded, holding up a hand. "I'm green," she said simply. "Nobody wants to be seen with the green girl. Everybody back home knows who I am, and I've always craved anomosity. People my age only talk to me when they want to tease me or call me names. I'm pretty much avoided the rest of the time, that's part of why I'm as much of a bookworm as I am. So...you truly have no idea how much it means to me that you would go out of your way just to put yourself on the front steps in time to see me get here. And the fact that you would even consider being my friend after seeing me is just...it means more than I can say. So...thank you. And don't worry about screwing things up with me. Since I've never had a friend before, I don't really know what would qualify as 'screwing up,' so I very highly doubt that will be much of a problem."

Glinda flashed a small grin and giggled as she opened the door to the room she and Elphaba had come to a stop in front of. "Well," she said, "here we are. I know it's not much, but it's home." Elphaba looked around. The room was small and simple with two beds sitting on either side of a window that had lace curtains. There was a nightstand beneath the window with an oil lamp on it, and on the other side of each bed was another nightstand. One of the beds had a rose pink blanket and a floral design on the pillowcase; on the nightstand beside this bed was a carved wooden jewelry box in the shape of a heart and a music box whose figurine was that of a woman in a ball gown dancing with a man in what looked to Elphaba's eyes like a military uniform of some kind. Tacked up on the wall around the headboard were photographs of various people, some of which included Glinda, and beside the music box was a framed photograph of a young man with short blond hair, blue-gray eyes, and a friendly smile. She assumed that these were Glinda's belongings and that the bed with the pink blanket was hers, which meant that Elphaba would be getting the other bed.

"It's great," she said. "Actually, believe it or not, this is better than what I've had since Momma died. Are all these people your friends?"  
"Friends, family, you know. Well, except for Fintan here," Glinda said, picking up the framed photo and smiling as she lightly traced the boy's features with her fingertip. "He's special." Elphaba raised a slender eyebrow as she set her suitcase down on the empty bed. "Is that your boyfriend?" she asked. Glinda sighed happily as she fell down onto her bed. "No," she breathed, "he's my fiancé. We're getting married next spring at his family's villa in Tenniken, and I'll be Mrs. Fintan Cadimeth. Have you ever been in love, Elphaba?"

The green girl shook her head. "No," she said, "not unless the occasional crush on a book character counts." Glinda laughed. The sound was beautiufl, and it brought Elphaba an odd sense of comfort not entirely different from the one she used to get from hearing her mother or sister laugh. "Well, it's a wonderful feeling!" the blonde said. "It's like...You just feel as if you could fly!"

"If you're engaged, where's your ring?" Elphaba asked. Glinda sat up and put the picture back on the nightstand, one hand diving into her jewelry box. "I don't usually wear it while I'm on my shift," she explained. "Some of the things that this job involves doing, especially with certain patients in particular...I just don't want to take the chance of possibly losing it or having a patient somehow end up in posession of it, you know? So I keep it in here when I'm working, then I'll put it back on after I'm done with my shift. Oh, here it is! See? It's been in his family for several generations. If I remember correctly, it was his great-grandmother's, and it's gotten passed down from her, and his mother gave it to him and told him that when he found the right girl to give it to her. That girl ended up being me. Isn't it beautiful?"

Elphaba had never really been one for jewelry. The only thing she wore on a regular basis was the silver heart-shaped locket with a rose engraved on the front that her mother had given her on her thirteenth birthday, the one whose identical twin had been given to her sister. But she had to admit that Glinda's ring _was _beautiful. The setting was open filigree rose gold with two small round white diamonds on either side of an oval shaped tourmaline that was such a deep shade of pink, Elphaba might have mistaken it for a garnet if she didn't know any better.

"You like the color pink, don't you," Elphaba said. It was a statement, not a question. Glinda giggled and nodded. "It's my favorite color," she said. "You should see my bedroom back home, it's got pink everything! OOOOH! And sparkles! My room. Has. _Sparkles!" _Rising onto her knees, the blonde let out a high-pitched squeal of delight and clapped her hands in a way that was reminiscent of an excited little kid. She gasped suddenly, one hand flying over her mouth, then climbed down from her bed and ran over to Elphaba, taking the other girl's hands in her own and pulling her up off the other bed, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

"You need a nickname!" she declared. "Do you have one I can call you?"  
"Um...well...my mother used to call me Faba, and my sister called me Fabala because she couldn't pronounce my name when she was little...but those are...nobody else has ever called me either one."

"Oh, no, no, no, I understand! I'll just come up with something else, a special name of my own for you! Let's see...Your name is Elphaba, and that's three syllables...right? El-pha-ba. Yep, three syllables! Okay, so Faba...that's the last two syllables, 'pha-ba,' and then Fabala is basically the same three syllables with a missing letter, so what does that leave for me to work with? That gives me...'El' and 'pha?' Yeah, that's it, 'el' and 'pha.' Okay, let's see what I can come up with from those! Hmm...Ella...Ellie...PheePhee? No, that's a little weird. Wait a clock-tick, though. Phee...Elph...Elphie! That's it! Elphie! That's what I'll call you! You can be Elphie, you can be my Elphie, how does that sound?"

"Well, it's a little perky..."  
"And you can call me...Glindaaaa!"

Somewhere down the hall, a clock struck the hour, and Glinda let out another gasp. "Oh! Morrible's expecting you, isn't she?! Here, follow me and I'll show you where her office is! Remember what I said about getting on her bad side, alright? Promise that you'll tell me _everything _later, and don't leave out a single detail! Hopefully I'll be able to give you some advice based on which version of the Spiel she gives you. Oh, and one more thing about her? She's called Horrible Morrible, but only by us younger nurses and interns, so be careful who you say that in front of, alright? If one of the older nurses hears you call her that, you could get in big trouble, and depending on which specific nurse hears it, she may even take you straight to Morrible herself, and if that happens, you may as well kiss all of this goodbye! Well, here it is. If I don't see you at dinner tonight, I'll know you didn't survive, but I really hope you do, so good luck and hopefully I'll see you on the other side! Oh, and Elphie?"

She turned. "Yes?"  
Glinda smiled at her.

"Welcome to Ozma Psych."

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**AN: In my mind, Ozma Psych is sort of a combination of old insane asylums (Bedlam, Pennhurst, one in Scotland known as Sunnyside, etc.) and modern psych places. Like...it's kind of hard to describe exactly what I mean by that, but I guess you'll just see as the story progresses. Again, links to the locket and ring will be on my profile, and I'm gonna go celebrate the fact that I just found out that RYAN MURPHY FINALLY CAME TO HIS DAMN SENSES AND IS PUTTING GLAMBERT IN THE FIFTH SEASON OF GLEE! AOJFVOI;EALHDVO[IKL;QJN[GIOSDF;QNAEOKLFVRO;AKLEMFB S**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I've had several people talk about how they can't wait to see how she meets Fiyero, and this is where they'll get their answer! **

**Also, fun fact about Elphie's mentor! Her first name, Bria, is my derivation of a Celtic name, Briallen, which means "primrose." I thought it was pretty, and I considered having it be her name, and Bria just be a nickname, but somehow I ended up going from that to just shortening it to Bria, so I guess that Bria is the Ozian version of it? lol, interpret it however you want, I just thought I'd share that with you because I love the original name. **

**SPEAKING of Celtic things, have any of you read my AiW 2010 fic, "Long Live Clan Hightopp?" Well, for anyone who has, you remember Kyla? She is now a supporting protagonist in the book I'm attempting to write! She's almost exactly the same as she was before, only the Scottish accent is out 24/7 now, the Celtic/Gaelic heritage is much more prominent to her character, and her last name is now Starett, but otherwise, she's pretty much exactly the same as she is in the fic! How cool is that?! Anyway...**

**DISCLAIMER: The only person/people that I own here are Bria Alendar, Fiyero's parents, and Niobe, but that's it. Everyone/everything else belongs to Maguire and/or Schwartz.**

**OH, and one more important thing! When it talks about them getting into "the lift," all I mean by that is one of those old-fashioned elevators with the gates. I wasn't sure if those had a specific name or whatever, so I just decided to refer to it as a lift because that seemed easiest. Alright, I'm done now, enjoy this while I go play Sims! :)**

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Elphaba was used to getting up early, but this? This was just ridiculous. She and Glinda, along with all the other girls in the dormitories, had been woken up at about 5:30 a.m., then were given five to ten minutes to get dressed, brush their teeth and hair, do whatever they were going to do with the latter (which, in Elphaba's case, was braid it), then get down to where breakfast was being served. They had half an hour to eat, after which the interns had to go and meet up with the nurses they were shadowing, who would then tell them what they would be doing that day and when they would be doing it, then it was off to work for everyone.

She had been grateful to have Glinda with her at breakfast, but splitting up with her newfound friend was harder than she'd thought it would be. At the blonde's suggestion, Elphaba had opted to leave her locket in their room, and its absence from the place where it usually rested just beneath the dip in her collarbone made her feel...well...for lack of a better word, it made her feel _naked. _She had worn that locket every single day of her life ever since her mother had given to her on her thirteenth birthday, which had been five years ago. She hadn't truly realized it until now, but that locket had become just as much a part of her as her love for books. She was snapped out of her thoughts when the nurse she was shadowing came back from getting the medicication they were supposed to take to someone.

Nurse Alendar was a curvy middle-aged woman who was a bit heavyset. Elphaba had only been following her for a short while, but she had already seen how quickly the older woman could go from being sweet and motherly to firm and governing when she needed to, though she'd told the green girl that she didn't like having to be that way and preferred to do things gently if it was at all possible. She had forest green eyes with a kind look in them (most of the time), and her light auburn hair was starting to turn gray. So far, Elphaba liked her well enough, but she knew that could always change, so she wasn't letting herself grow too fond of the woman just yet.

"Who exactly are we taking this to?" the green girl asked as she followed Nurse Alendar down the hall. She had to walk a bit faster than she usually did because the nurse moved surprisingly fast for her somewhat stout build, and even with her long legs, Elphaba had been having to move quickly in order to keep up with her mentor. "I can't tell you right now, dear," Nurse Alendar said. "He's...well...For now, let's just say that not many people know too much about him, and that's the way it's supposed to be with this particular young man. I'll tell you a bit about him once we've reached his floor, but until then, just be patient."

This only made Elphaba more curious, but she decided that it was probably best to just leave it alone for the time being like she'd been told to, so she did. She followed the older woman into the lift, and they rode in silence. She was surprised when it stopped on the sixth floor, and even more so when Nurse Alendar stepped out on this floor. "Um...Nurse Alendar?" she said. The nurse laughed and waved this off. "Oh, please, dear," she said, "call me Bria. Only Morrible calls me Nurse Alendar." Elphaba blinked, then nodded. "R-Right," she said. "Um...Bria, then...uh...I don't mean to question you or anything since you are in charge here, after all, but, um...I thought that the sixth floor was practically deserted. From what I understand, the only patient up here may or may not even exist."

Bria stopped short and turned around to look at the young intern. "What have you heard about him?" she asked in a low voice, which struck Elphaba as a bit odd since they were the only ones in the hallway. "Not much," she admitted. "I mean...I know that he's called the Dead-Armed Boy because of a paralyzed arm, and that he's supposedly a prince or something, but that's about it. So...wait...does that mean that...that there really is a patient with a dead arm up here?"

"Shh! Not so loud, someone might hear you!"  
"All due respect, Bria, but we're the only ones up here, who could possibly overhear us?"

Bria bit her lower lip, then sighed heavily, put her arm around Elphaba's shoulders, and began guiding her down the hall like that. "He's real," she said in that same low volume. "His name is Fiyero Tigelaar, and yes, he's a prince. The Crown Prince of the Arjiki tribe, to be exact, he's the only son of King Reynard and Queen Zerelda. He had two sisters, but one is estranged, and the other died of tuberculosis two years ago. They were very close, and the grief over losing her is what drove him to insanity. He started throwing these hysterical temper tantrums for absolutely no reason and with no warning, and from the way I understand it, his parents didn't want to admit him, but they felt like they had no choice after he..."

Elphaba shook her head. "After he what?" she asked quietly. Bria looked around, and Elphaba wondered who she could possibly think would be following them down this otherwise deserted hallway, but said nothing. "After he knocked over an amoire and it crushed his arm," Bria whispered. Elphaba's eyes widened into saucers. "Is that how it got paralyzed?" she asked. Bria nodded, the look on her face grave and serious. "You must swear to never breathe a word about this to anyone," she said. "Only a select few people know that he's up here, which is exactly how it's supposed to be. If everyone knew about him, they would all want to see him, and he doesn't do well with lots of people, which is why so few know about him. He's got some trust issues, so we keep the number of people he interacts with to as much of a minimum as possible in hopes that he'll have an easier time trusting even just one of us, because that would be better than nothing."

"So he's a secret, is that what you're saying?"  
"Yes! Yes, that's it, that's an excellent way to put it! He's a secret, and now that you're in on it, you have to keep the secret, understand?"

Elphaba blinked. A secret. Not the sort that usually came to mind with the word, but one that was living, breathing, had dreams, fears, hopes, emotions, a name, a family, an _identity. _She'd never known that it was possible to have a secret like that, so how could she be certain that she'd be able to keep such a secret? She knew the answer to the question as soon as it had come into her head; she _couldn't. _But Bria was looking at her expectantly, and now that she knew he was real, she was absolutely dying to get a look at the so-called "Dead-Armed Boy" for herself. She had to see him, to have that personal confirmation that he really did exist, to be able to put a face to it all, and more than anything, she had to try to understand why he was talked about so little, and always in hushed tones, why he was kept so isolated from the rest of the patients; she had to know why he was up here all by himself on the nearly deserted sixth floor. The next two words that left her mouth felt as if they were being said by a stranger in her body.

"I understand."

"Hold these, and stay close to me," Bria said in a low voice, handing Elphaba the syringe and bottle she had brought along. The green girl nodded, then braced herself—for what, though, she couldn't say—as Bria opened the door, then stepped inside with Elphaba close behind; as she entered, her eyes briefly passed over the plate on the door where the room number was engraved.

_602_

At an indication to do so from Bria, Elphaba shut the door softly. "Fiyero?" Bria said. "Fiyero, honey, it's time for your shot."  
"Can I finish this first?"  
"Of course, sweetie."

Elphaba couldn't see what the boy looked like—not yet, anyway, because his back was turned towards the two women, so all she knew so far was that he had brown hair with faint coppery streaks. He was dressed in the same clothing as the other male patients; a simple white cotton shirt and black cotton pants. She could see that he was barefoot, and he sat cross-legged on the floor using a piece of charcoal to draw a picture of a pretty young girl on the wall in front of himself. Once he'd finished shading in her irises, he dropped the charcoal rather than setting it down, and it rolled off into the corner as he sat back to examine his work. After a moment, he gave a satisfied nod and turned around, and for one breif instant when she saw his eyes, Elphaba's breath caught in her throat.

He had softly angled eyebrows and pale, crystal clear blue eyes with a strong jawline and full lips whose shell pink color was accentuated by the paleness of his alabaster skin, the one exception to this being the shadows underneath his eyes that gave the impression that he hadn't been getting much sleep.

He stared at Bria with wide eyes, then blinked a few times and looked around as if he wasn't quite sure where he was or what was going on, then his eyes landed on Elphaba and he frowned. "Who's she?" he asked, pointing at her. It didn't escape her notice that he used his right hand for it, just like he'd been using his right hand to draw. Bria smiled at the boy. "This is Elphaba," she said, "my new intern. She likes to read, you know."

The boy, who Elphaba knew had to be Fiyero, looked at her and smiled faintly. "You like books, too?" he said. Elphaba nodded. "I love books," she said. "They're my favorite things in the world." His smile widened a bit. "Mine too! I have some over there, see? And there are more with my things that are in storage. I'm only allowed to have four at once, though. Why are you green?" Bria frowned. "Fiyero, don't be rude," she scolded.

Elphaba shook her head. "It's fine, I'm used to it," she said. Turning back to Fiyero, she shrugged. "I don't know. It's just how I've always been. I was born like this, we've never known why." Fiyero reached across himself and grabbed his left arm by the elbow, holding it up. "I've got a dead arm," he said, then let it fall into his lap. "It's useless. All it does is hang there like a stupid scarecrow arm or something."

By this point, Bria was flicking the needle of the syringe, and she'd told Elphaba on their way to his room that she wanted her to keep Fiyero's attention elsewhere during this part, so that's exactly what she was hoping she'd be able to do long enough for Bria to do what needed to be done.

"Bria told me what happened," she said. "That must have really hurt." Fiyero sort of scrunched up his face as if he were trying to come up with the answer to a difficult question, then used his good arm to shrug. "I guess," he said. "To be honest, I don't really remember very much from that day, so I don't really know if it hurt or not. _Ouch! _Dammit, Bria, why can't you ever do that in my dead arm so I don't have to feel it?! That _hurts!"_

"If I did it in your dead arm, the medicine wouldn't work the way it's supposed to, I've told you that at least a thousand times, Fiyero, so stop complaining."

Fiyero let out a drawn out whine and fell back onto the floor, limbs sprawled out all over the place. "But it _huuuuurts!" _he said pitifully. Elphaba covered her mouth so she wouldn't laugh. She knew it wasn't really something to be amused at, but it wasn't her fault that the display he was putting on was so adorable, not to mention how familiar it all looked to her!

On an impulse, she crouched down next to him and turned his head in her direction, which got him to open his eyes. "You're acting like my older brother," she said simply, then stood up and took the syringe back from Bria. Apparently, this statement had piqued Fiyero's interest, because he sat up, which seemed to be a bit difficult for him since he was only able to use the one arm to push himself into an upright position, but he managed.

"You have an older brother?" he asked. Elphaba nodded, and he smiled. "What's his name?"  
"His name is Sheltergod, but everybody just calls him Shell. It's him, me, and our little sister, Nessarose. And I cannot even begin to tell you how many times Nessa and I have sat and watched and laughed while Shell put on a much more dramatic version of displays very similar to the one you just put on." Fiyero's smile widened a bit.

"Elphaba," Bria said quietly. Elphaba turned, and Bria made a subtle motion towards the door with her head that, despite how small it was, Fiyero still saw, and his face fell. "You'll come back, right?" he asked. Elphaba blinked in surprise, but Bria came to her rescue. "Of course she will," she said. "She's my intern, so she'll be with me every day from now on." He frowned and shook his head. "No she won't," he said, "because that's what you said about Genevive, and she eventually stopped coming. And so did Namida, and Amphelice, and Sterenn, and Rosmerta, and...You always say that about the interns, but they all stop coming at one point or another, so why should I think that this time will be any different?"

"Because it probably will," Elphaba blurted out.

At the confused looks this got from Bria and Fiyero, she tried to figure out how to explain. "I just meant that...I...well..." She sighed, handed the bottle and syringe to Bria, then crouched down so that she was eye-to-eye with Fiyero.

"I'm doing this because I want to help people, Fiyero," she said. "That's what I want to do with my life. More than anything else in the world, I want to help people in whatever way I can, because not very long ago, my sister needed my help more than she ever had before, and I didn't help her like I should have. And afterwards, I decided that from then on, if someone ever needed my help, it didn't matter who they were or what they needed help with, if they needed my help and I was able to give it to them, that's exactly what I would do. That's why I'm here. To help people. So you know what? I'm probably not going to be like those other girls. I probably actually will be here every day from now on, so of course I'll come back."

"...Promise?"  
"I promise."

His smile returned, and after finding where the charcoal had rolled off to, he went back to his drawing as Elphaba followed Bria out of the room. Why, she wondered, was this boy kept so isolated? Why was he here in the first place? Except for his arm, he seemed perfectly fine!

...

Glinda could be trusted to keep a secret, right?

* * *

**AN: For once, I have nothing to say. OFF TO THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF SIMS I GO! XD  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Okay, so you guys are all right, typically speaking, Glinda CAN'T keep a secret, no matter what she's calling herself at any given point on the timeline. **

**BUT THIS IS NOT THAT TIMELINE, THIS IS AN AU TIMELINE, LOLOLOL!**

**Disclaimer: The closest I am to owning anything or anyone is the Elphaba, Fiyero, and Glinda Sims that I have in my Sims 3 game. But they don't really count for anything, unfortunately, so all the names here? If you recognize it, the character isn't mine. Please excuse me now while I go and pout over that.**

* * *

"You _what?!"  
_"Keep your voice down!"  
"You actually _saw _him?! You _talked _to him?! Elphaba—"  
"Galinda, _lower your voice."_

The smaller girl leapt up and practically threw herself across the space between their beds onto Elphaba's mattress, grabbing her friend by the shoulders and looking straight into her eyes, her expression gravely serious. "You had better not be pulling my leg," she said in a low voice. "I swear to Oz, Thropp, if you're trying to yank the wool over my eyes or something, I'll—"

"I'm not, Glinda, I swear! Honest to Oz, I'm not! I swear on my mother's grave that this actually happened! I got down on the floor and looked this boy in the eyes and spoke to him! I don't...I don't understand why he's here, I mean, except for that arm, he seems perfectly normal. Granted, he does behave kind of like a kid, but some people are just like that, I should know since I've got a brother like that. Honestly, though, from what I saw, the only thing even a little bit strange about him is the fact that he's got an arm he's not able to move, otherwise, he seemed perfectly normal, if a bit childish. I...I walked in there, and he was sitting in front of a wall with his back to the door drawing on that wall with a piece of charcoal, and...oh my Oz. Glinda. The...The _detail _of that picture, it was...amazing, I've never seen anything else like it. The girl he was drawing, I swear, I half expected her to start laughing or something, it was _insanely_ realistic."  
Glinda frowned and crossed her arms. "I'm still not convinced," she said. "What was the first thing he said to you, huh?"

"You mean directly to me, or...?"  
"Yes, directly to you. What was it?"

Elphaba thought for a moment. "He said...He said, 'You like books, too?'"  
Again, Glinda frowned. "And why, pray tell, would he say a thing like that?" she asked. Elphaba rolled her eyes. "I told you this already," she said. "After she introduced me, Bria told him that I like to read."

Glinda furrowed her brow and puckered up her lips thoughtfully. "What time is it right now?" she asked finally. Elphaba glanced at the clock that sat on the bedside table that was between their two beds. "A quarter after eleven," she replied, "why?" Without bothering to answer, Glinda leapt up and dragged a wooden chest out from under her bed, throwing it open and rummaging through. "Glinda," Elphaba said, "what are you—"

"Gotcha!" the blonde declared triumphantly, holding up a sterling silver chamberstick with a floral pattern engraved around the rim and a small curved handle. After shoving the chest back under her bed, she opened the drawer of her nightstand and produced a tapered candle that had already melted down a bit, followed by a match, which she struck on the nightstand and used to light the candle before blowing it out and putting the candle in the chamberstick. Finally, only after she had done all of this, she turned around to face the green girl.

"We're gonna go on a little adventure, Elphie," she said, then smiled sweetly. It took a moment for things to click, but once they had, Elphaba began shaking her head. "No," she said, "no, Glinda, no, that is a bad idea, that is a _very _bad idea, we could get caught and then we'd both be in huge trouble!"

"Who is going to catch us?" Glinda countered. "There is less than an hour left until midnight, who in their right mind would be up and about at this ungodly hour?!"

_"We're _up at this ungodly hour!"  
"Yes, but we're not in our right minds!"

"Oh, this cannot _possibly _end well," Elphaba muttered, biting her lower lip. Finally, she let out a heavy sigh. "Oz, I can't believe I'm actually letting you talk me into this."

"Oh, goody-goody-gumdrops!" Glinda cried out happily.  
"But if we get caught, it's all your fault, got it?" Elphaba said quickly, and Glinda nodded, her smile never faltering. With another sigh, Elphaba took the chamberstick from Glinda, who was holding it out to her, then let the blonde take her hand before leading her friend out into the darkened hallway. Glinda held onto her arm the entire time, never letting go even when they got in the lift. "What room is he in?" Glinda whispered as they stepped off of it. "602," Elphaba replied. "Don't go running ahead, though, just stay with me, alright? I—What in the...Did you hear that?" Glinda looked around and frowned. "Hear what?" she asked. There was a pause while Elphaba listened.

_"That."_

"Elphie? Elphie, wait up! Elphie!"  
_"Shh! _Glinda, keep your voice down."

Glinda peeked into the window of the door like Elphaba was doing, then let out a quiet gasp. "He's beautiful!" she whispered. Elphaba smirked. "Aren't you engaged?" she said wryly. Glinda rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush," she said, "there's nothing wrong with a little window shopping, it's not like I'm about to go and break things off with Fin just because I think a patient is kind of cute." Elphaba held up a finger. "Hold on for a clock-tick, Glin," she said, frowning as she handed the chamberstick to her friend. "I think...Is it just me, or does he seem a little...agitated?"

"Agitated how?"  
"Agitated like—"  
"Elphaba? Is that you?"

Both girls gasped as they turned around. "B-Bria!" Elphaba said. "I—What...What are you doing here?" Bria frowned as she came closer, the candlelight illuminating her face. "Keeping an eye on him," Bria replied, gesturing to indicate Fiyero's sleeping form. Her frown deepened. "What are you doing here? And who is this?" she asked. Elphaba tried to find her voice, but couldn't. "My name is Galinda, ma'am," Glinda said, coming to the green girl's rescue. "Call me Glinda. I'm...I'm Elphaba's roomate. This isn't her fault, I swear. I'm the one at fault here, she tried to talk me out of it, but I wouldn't have any of it, I can be so stubborn sometimes. I, um...I woke up from a bad dream earlier, you see, and, uh, Elphie here was...was talking in her sleep, and so when I was coming out of the bathroom and about to get back in bed, I heard her mutter something about this boy, and I was so overcome with curiosity that I shook her awake right then and demanded that she tell me everything, and I was just so persistent that she didn't really have any choice but to let the secret out, and then I talked her into bringing me to see him. I won't tell anyone, though, I swear! You have my word."  
"Wait," Elphaba said.

"I don't...Why does he need you to watch him?"  
Bria sighed and shook her head sadly as she fixed her gaze on the boy asleep inside the room. "He gets horrible nightmares from time to time," she said quietly. "He refuses to tell anyone what they're about, but we assume that for the most part, they're either about his sister or his paternal grandmother since he was so close to both of them and both their deaths hit him so hard. He just...He wakes up in the middle of the night crying his eyes out and screaming himself hoarse. There has to constantly be someone to watch him at night."

Elphaba shook her head, questions swirling endlessly through her mind as she watched Fiyero turn onto his side. "Why is he here?" she whispered. "What has he done to justify putting him in this place? The only thing even a little bit wrong with him is the fact that his arm is paralyzed, but...there are ways to overcome that sort of thing. He could...wear it in a sling or something, and if all else fails, there's always the option to..." She shook her head, not wanting to think on that sort of thing.

"But this place...he doesn't belong here," she said. "All the other people I've seen here so far, they all have something wrong with their mind. I even saw a girl who was completely catatonic earlier, but Fiyero...he...He seems perfectly normal except for his arm. He makes eye contact, he smiles, he talks, he reads, he draws amazingly relalistic pictures on the walls of his room, he acts like a silly little kid the same way my older brother does. Those are all things that any normal person does. What could have possibly compelled his parents to put him in this sort of a place?"

"Elphaba...sweetheart...that boy is a potential danger to himself and other people, his arm is proof of that. It wouldn't be paralyzed if an amoire hadn't fell on it, and an amoire wouldn't have fallen on it if _he _hadn't knocked it over. Why do you think his nightstand is round? He could hurt himself on it if it had corners. The reading, the drawings, the childish behavior...Those are all coping mechanisms for him. He reads to escape from reality, because in reality, the sister that was so precious to him is gone and is never coming back. He draws things, places, and people from his memories of home. The girl he was drawing earlier, that was his sister, the one that he lost. And if you stand right here and turn your head at this angle...See that picture right there? The one of three kids playing next to a fountain? Those are his nephews and their sister in the gardens of the castle he grew up in. And he behaves like a child because his mind has deteriorated in a way that...it's almost like reverse mental development, for lack of a better term. Oh, Oz...Elphaba, I might need you to—"

Bria never got to finish her sentence, because just then, Fiyero started shouting and thrashing in his sleep, then suddenly sat bolt upright with tears streaming down his face, all the while screaming at someone named Dryxen that something was his fault and that he was going to kill him for "doing this to her."

Before Elphaba or Glinda had time to fully register what was happening, Bria had yanked the door open and was pulling the green girl inside by the wrist, raising her voice to be heard over Fiyero's screams that she needed Elphaba to help hold him down. Once they'd gotten him pinned onto the mattress as best they could, Bria somehow managed to wake him up, and when his eyes opened, the look in them was one of absolute terror, and it wrenched at her heart in a way nothing ever had before, and so did watching those terrified eyes flicker all over the place as if he had no idea where he was or how he'd gotten there or who anybody was or what was happening.

And then, suddenly, he cried out in pain and started fighting against being restrained with a renewed strength before his entire body slowly started to relax until finally, he collapsed and let his head fall back onto the pillow as every part of his body was nearly as limp as his dead arm.

Elphaba looked up at Bria, who was standing over Fiyero with a syringe. "What did you do to him?" she asked in a trembling voice. Bria slowly let out her breath, letting her arm fall to her side. "I gave him a sedative," she said. "It's the only thing _to _do when this happens." Elphaba looked at Fiyero. She could see his eyelids just barely trembling, and for a moment, she thought he'd fallen back asleep and that this was from R.E.M. having started up, but then he let out a soft moan and made an attempt to open his eyes, which he quickly gave up on as his breathing started to even itself out again. Not knowing what else there was for her to do, Elphaba began to follow Bria out of the room.

"Wait..."

The voice was weak and scratchy, but unmistakable, and it made Elphaba and Bria both turn, the looks on their faces equally shocked. He hadn't moved an inch, but somehow, Fiyero had managed to get his eyes partway open, and he was laying on the bed staring at them. "El...Elphaba," he said, "don't...don't..." She turned around and hurried back over, brushing away some of the hair that was plastered to his forehead with sweat. "Do you want me to stay for a while?" she asked quietly. She could see his Adam's apple move as he swallowed, then took a deep breath. "Yes," he whispered. She nodded. "Just let me get something from my friend. It'll only take a clock-tick, she's right outside the door," she said, then went to where Glinda was still standing with the candle in its chamberstick, which she took from the blonde. "Go on back to our room, Glin, I'll be there in a little while. He wants me to stay here for a bit, so I'll come down once he's fallen back to sleep, alright? You go on to sleep yourself so you're not passing out tomorrow, and I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

Glinda bit her lower lip, but finally, she nodded and gave Elphaba a quick hug. "Just be careful," she said softly. Elphaba smiled reassuringly. "I'll be fine, I promise," she replied. After another brief hug, Glinda turned and began heading back the way the girls had come. Bria put a hand on Elphaba's shoulder. "Don't hesitate to come wake me up if anything happens, alright?" she said. Elphaba nodded. "Of course." Bria smiled and hugged her intern. "You're a good person, Elphaba," she said. "I'm lucky to have you helping me. Glinda is right, though. Be careful, okay? Like I said, he's potentially dangerous. Never on purpose, but nevertheless, so just...Try to get out before the sedation wears off, just in case, alright?" Again, Elphaba nodded. "I'll do my best," she said. Bria smiled again. "I suppose that's all I can ask. In that case, good luck and goodnight."

And with that, Bria turned and set off in the same direction as Glinda. Elphaba took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then went back into Fiyero's room.

She put the chamberstick down on the nightstand, then sat down on the bed next to Fiyero. He looked so...so vulnerable laying there with his eyes closed and his lips just barely parted. Even in the warm glow of the candlelight, he looked pale to a point that it was almost frightening. Elphaba reached out to brush more hair away from his eyes, but she hesitated before her skin could come into contact with his. She didn't really know why...maybe it was the way he looked, like he was only halfway real...But for some reason, there was a part of her that was afraid that if she touched him, he would just...vanish.

Despite this uncertainty, she was able to bring herself to carry out her original intent and brush those strands of sweat-dampened hair back from his face. As her fingertips gently grazed the skin of his forehead, the slightest crease appeared on his brow. "Nini..." he breathed, "Nini...is...is that you?" Elphaba felt a pang in her heart. Who did he think she was? It took a moment for her to recompose herself to be able to answer him. "It's Elphaba," she said quietly. "Remember? You asked me to stay with you."

The crease in his brow deepened somewhat, and with a bit of effort, he was able to open his eyes. For a moment, they wandered slowly around the room, the look in them blank, as if he didn't recognize his surroundings. But when his gaze landed on Elphaba, for one brief instant, she could've sworn that there was a spark of something in those strikingly pale eyes, but it came and went so quickly that she wasn't sure if it had been real or she'd just imagined it.

He slowly let his breath out as he closed his eyes again. "For a minute, I thought..." He trailed off, sighing heavily. "Nevermind," he whispered. "I'm just imagining things...just like I always do...I'm...I'm a nutcase, you know. My parents, they...they were ashamed of me...I would be ashamed of me, too, if I was them. It's no wonder they put me in here...they probably resent me...I would resent me...The only son, the one suppposed to take the throne...and the only kid they've got left...and what do I do? I go and turn into a depressed nutcase with a dead arm. It's no wonder they put me in here..."

"You're here because they care about you," she said, and he made a noise that might have been a weak laugh, but she honestly couldn't tell because it was so quiet. "You lost someone too...didn't you," he murmured. It was a statement, not a question. Elphaba swallowed as she twisted the fabric of her nightgown up in her fist, then released it and nodded. "Yes," she said. "My mother passed away not too long ago. I have a locket that she gave me, and it's all the more special now that she's gone."  
"Mmm...Maybe you lost your mom," Fiyero said, "but there's more to it than that, isn't there?"

"What makes you say that?"  
"Call it the intuition of personal experience...It's not the sister you mentioned earlier, is it? Because that would be a strange coincidence."  
Elphaba couldn't help but laugh lightly. "No," she said, "no, it's not Nessa. She's still very much alive. I don't...I don't like to talk about it." Something with a vauge semblance of a smile ghosted across Fiyero's face. "Suit yourself," he said. For the next several moments or so, there was silence.

"Elphaba?"  
"Yes, Fiyero?"  
"Will you tell me a story?"  
"O-Okay...A story about what?"

When he didn't respond, she thought that maybe he'd fallen back to sleep, but then he slowly let out his breath, smiled faintly as he turned his face towards the candlelight, and said, "Everything and nothing."

And something about the way he said it sounded so...content...and his face was so peaceful that Elphaba couldn't help but smile.

"Once upon a time," she said, "there was a small kingdom that was ruled over by a king and queen with three children; a prince, and two princesses. The prince was the oldest, and so he tended to be a bit overprotective of his sisters sometimes, and the older of the two princesses got frustrated very easily with him because of it, but for the most part, all three of them loved each other and got along. Now, their father the king was very stern, especially with the middle princess, but since he spent most of his time doing things to keep the kingdom running, they didn't really see very much of him. But their mother the queen always managed to find time for them, no matter what she was doing. She loved all three of her children more than anything in the world, and she would have done absolutely anything if it meant they would be kept safe and happy. One of their favorite things in the world was the time with her before they went to sleep every night, when she would come into their rooms one at a time and sing each of them to sleep."

She stopped there, and after a moment, Fiyero opened his eyes to look at her. "Why'd you stop?" he asked. Elphaba bit her lower lip. "This is the first time I've ever told this story," she said finally, staring at the flame on the candle's wick rather than looking at Fiyero. "I only heard it myself fairly recently. I...I'm not sure it was the best choice for telling you, because it...Fiyero...this story...it doesn't have a happy ending. Or...any ending, for that matter. It's...It's not finished yet, but the part that happened most recently, the part I would have to end it at for now until I find out what happens next...It's not a happy part, Fiyero. It's not happy at all. And you're still so sad from what happened to your sister...I don't...I don't want you to be any more sad than you already are, and I don't want to be the reason for any extra sadness you might end up with. So I...I'm really not entirely sure that it was a good idea to tell you this story, and I don't think it would be a good idea to keep going, either, especially right after you've had a nightmare. I don't want you to get anymore bad dreams, not tonight. My mother used to say that nobody should have to be put through more than one bad dream per night, and you've already had yours for tonight."

"Will you tell me the rest another time, then?" he asked.  
"Maybe," she said. "We'll have to see. Maybe once I know how it ends."

He nodded weakly. "Then...will you just talk to me until I fall asleep? I don't really care what you talk about, I just...I don't know, I just like the sound of your voice. It's...relaxing to me for some reason. It kind of reminds me of my sister's voice, and you kind of remind me of my sister. I guess that's why I wanted you to stay. I feel...safe...with you. I can't explain it, but it's just...earlier, when you came in here with Bria when she gave me that stupid shot...when you and I were talking...I don't know, I just...I...felt something, I guess. I can't really...describe or explain it, but...I felt something. And then...when you said that you're going to stay here instead of leaving like the other interns...there was...like...I guess it was...You know how people say that they can feel things in the pit of their stomach? I had never really understood that before, but when you said you're going to stay...I finally understood it, because I felt something in the pit of _my _stomach, and...I still can't figure out what it was. I know...I know that I've felt it before, because I recognized it. On some really, really vague level, I recognized it, but...at the same time...it was so...new and...and foreign to me, so I guess...I guess that means that it's something I haven't felt in a long time until today. But whatever it was...it felt nice...And then...when I woke up from my nightmare...even before I figured out what was happening...I don't know how or why, but your face was the first thing I recognized, and...I don't know...I just...I feel safe with you...there's just something about you that I can't figure out, but...you're...you're different...but not different like I am, because there's nothing wrong with you. You're different in a good way."

"Fiyero," Elphaba said, "listen to me. Just because you're different, that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you."  
"I'm a depressed masochist with a useless arm, Elphaba. I get mad at people for no reason and have spent the past two years of my life drawing on walls and staring off into space. I'm...broken." She leaned over so that she was closer to him. "You wanna hear a secret?" she asked. He stared at her with wide, childlike eyes. "What?" he replied, and she leaned even closer so that her mouth was beside his ear.

"I'm broken, too," she whispered.

She sat back up and waited for his reaction, but he only smiled at her tiredly and just barely shook his head. "You're not broken," he said so softly that she could barely hear him. He closed his eyes. "You're not broken," he repeated. "You're just..." He trailed off, once again turning his head towards the candlelight. His breathing slowly evened out, and she knew that this time, he really was asleep, so she stood up, fixed his blanket, then took the candle and left, pausing in the door way to look back at him as he slept.

He could tell himself that he was broken all he wanted, but that didn't make it true. And even if it was, she believed that there was still a chance he could be fixed. It was just a matter of the right person coming along and managing to figure out how.

* * *

**AN: That story she told him? The one that doesn't have an ending yet?  
**

**IT PLAYS A MAJOR ROLE IN THE PLOT LATER ON, SO HAVE FUN TRYING TO FIGURE THAT ONE OUT, TROLOLOLOLOLOLOL! XD**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: AO;VEKLWAVOKLDSG ROYAL BABY ALJFA;VKSDFVOKFDLJFAVKOLSJVNAOKLFHDF *has a spastic Royal fangirl seizure and passes out***

* * *

_Dear Shell,_

_Your letters have truly become much too few and painfully far between. You have no idea how happy I was to get an envelope with your handwriting on it. These last few weeks have been so...strange and active, to say the least. On my first day alone, I helped with the person who might just be the single most notorious patient in this entire place, but even with all the "fame," he's nothing but a myth to about 99% of the people here, and that includes the staff. I know I'm being cryptic, so let me explain:_

_There's a patient here by the name of Fiyero Tigelaar. He is a nineteen-year-old Arjiki boy, and is the only son of the Arjiki king and queen, as well as their only remaining child, seeing how one of his sisters is apparently estranged to the point of being disowned, and the other one died two years ago. The story goes that he was very close to this second sister, a girl about two or three years younger than him named Niobe. She died of tuberculosis when he was seventeen, and his grief began to come out in the form of hysterical fits of anger directed at anyone and everyone for absolutely no reason that would start with no reason, and during one of which he somehow succeeded in knocking over an amoire, which then proceeded to crush his left arm, leaving it completely paralyzed, and him unable to even feel it for the rest of his life, let alone actually use it for anything. That fit was apparently the last straw, and his parents, not wanting him to hurt himself or anyone else again, committed him to this place. He's been here ever since. He's the only patient on the sixth floor._

_He's kept in total isolation and lives in room 602, in which there is nothing but a window, a round nightstand where he's allowed to keep up to four of his books at a time and some charcoal, which he uses to draw incredibly lifelike pictures on the walls of people, places, and things from his home back in the Vinkus. When I first met him, when I followed my mentor, Bria, into the room, he had his back turned and was shading in the irises on a picture of his sister._

_I don't understand it, Shell._

_With the exception of his arm and the fact that he suffers the occasional nightmare that wakes him up screaming and in tears, I can see absolutely nothing wrong with this boy, and especially nothing mentally wrong with him. I can't figure out why he's here. You know what he told me? He told me that he's broken. And when I told him that I'm broken, too, he said twice in a row, "You're not broken." And then he started to tell me that I'm "just..." but he fell asleep before he finished, so I never found out what I am. But you know what else he told me?_

_He says he feels safe with me. He says he can't explain it, but he just feels safe. Maybe it's because I "sort of" remind him of his sister, but...And he said that I'm "different from the others," but he's not sure how. That I'm "different, but not in the way that [he is] because there's nothing wrong with [me]...different in a good way." And when I tried to tell him that being different doesn't mean there's something wrong with him, if he hadn't been under sedation at the time, I swear, he would have laughed, because the very next thing he said was, "Elphaba, I'm a depressed masochist with a dead arm."_

_There's something about this boy, Shell. I don't know what, but he just...there's something almost...magnetic about him, and I'm not just talking about his eyes, even as amazingly pale and clear as they are! Something about him that I can't identify is just...it's like it's pulling me in, and now that I've seen him, met him, spoken to him and all these things, I can't just turn my back on him, I couldn't even if I wanted to, because as broken as he thinks he is, even if it's true, I honestly believe that he is not beyond repair. I truly believe with all my heart that this supposedly broken boy can still be fixed, and it's only a matter of the right person coming along and figuring out how, and I am determined to do absolutely everything I can to make that happen as quickly as humanly possible, because I am telling you, Shell, this boy _does not belong here._ He looks people in the eyes, carries on conversation, smiles, laughs, draws, reads, has nightmares and memories and is so much more _normal_ than anybody else I've seen here so far._

_You know...in some ways...he reminds me of you. And I think that maybe that's part of why I'm drawn to him, you know? I mean, take the first time I met him, for example. Once Bria had given him the shot we'd gone in there to give him, he said, "OUCH!" and then proceeded to demand why she couldn't do that in his dead arm, and she basically told him, "Because it wouldn't do its job if I did, I've told you this before," and you know what he did? I kid you not, Shell, he threw his head back, made a face, and whined, "But it HUUUUUUUUUUURTS-UH!" and then let himself fall backwards and just lay there on the floor with his limbs all sprawled out around himself, his eyes closed, and his face all scrunched up, and it was just so adorable and it reminded me of a child, but more than anything, it reminded me of the little "shows" that you're so fond of putting on for everyone, and so I got down there with him, got him to open his eyes, and just said, "You, sir, are acting like my older brother."_

_Oh, hell! And while we're on the subject of silly behavior, don't even get me started on my roomate! Her name is Galinda Arduenna, but when she was a little girl, a friend mispronounced her name as "Glinda," and it stuck as a nickname, so everybody calls her Glinda instead of Galinda. Anyway, she's my age, and I swear to Oz, Shell, this girl is my complete polar opposite in every way imaginable! She's about four-foot-eleven without shoes on, so as you might expect, she pretty much only wears heels, and she LOVES the color pink. She's got a pink blanket on her bed, a wooden jewelry box shaped like a heart and painted primarily pink, her nails are pink, her makeup is mainly pink, she's got a trunk she keeps under her bed, I've caught glimpses of pink in that, there's pink on her music box, pink, pink, PINK! She says I should see her room at home, but honestly, between you and me, I'm sort of glad that I haven't and probably won't! She's got curly blonde hair, pretty blue eyes, her voice is kind of high-pitched and nasally, and she is a bundle of hyperactivity and bounciness and energy and squeals. She's a real sweetheart, though, and despite being on far ends of the spectrum, she was the very first friend I made here. In fact, she did something for me on my first day that I will never forget as long as I live._

_When I first got here, by which I mean AS I WAS COMING UP THE FRONT WALK, Glinda was the one who was standing on the front steps waiting for me, and when I got up there, she gave me a very warm and welcoming smile and said, "Hi there, you must be the new intern!" Later on, she told me that she'd been told she would be getting a new roomate, and when she overheard that I was supposed to arrive on that particular day, she was absolutely determined to be the very first person to greet me when I got here because she wanted to get off on the right foot so that she hopefully wouldn't "screw things up" like she apparently has with some past friendships, and I just...I was absolutely speechless when she told me this, because as I know that you're aware, I've never had anyone do that sort of thing before, so it...it was unexpected, but I'm very grateful that she thought I was important enough to go out of her way just to meet as soon as I got here. And I truly don't think that she has any idea how much that gesture really meant to me._

_Anyway, she's Gillikinese, and was born and raised in a place in the Pertha Hills in the Upper Uplands called Frottica. She's engaged to a guy named Fintan, and they're getting married next spring at his family's place in Tennikin. She's got a picture of him, and I have to admit, he's not bad looking, though if they ever have children, between her genetics and his, those kids will be VERY blonde and blue-eyed!_

_Hm...Well...not much more to report on my end, so I guess I'll end things here. I miss you so much, Shell. You used to always be right around the corner when I needed you, and now you're just...I'm not...Don't think that I resent you or anything, because I don't. I could never resent you after everything you've done for me, but...I respect your choice to travel, and I understand your whole thing about needing to have freedom and find yourself and everything, but sometimes I just...It's been hard, you know? Since you left, there've been times when I needed you, and then I remembered you weren't there, and...I just..._

_I miss you, okay? I miss having my big brother around. And I wish you would at least come visit or something. Even if only for a day or two._

_Anyway...yeah. Just...take care of yourself, okay? Try to stay out of trouble and write back soon._

_Much love,_  
_Elphaba (a.k.a. your little Lizard Girl)_

* * *

**AN: Filler chapter, I'm sorry, I just...I can't... ;KVAJLDF;AKDLJ;LKFSDAJ BABY LITTLE ROYAL BABY NEW PRINCE AOIFJKA;LDSF;AOEKLJDSofL *passes out again***


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Sorry about the wait, I got distracted with other things, then I had a false start, then I got stuck, and...yeah. But, anyway, we're back in motion now, so hopefully the next chapter won't take as long as this one did, lol! Um, so...**

**This chapter is kind of where we start going a little deeper into the Fiyero side of things, just to kind of give you guys a bit of an idea how his mind is functioning at this point in his life and that sort of thing, you know?**

**Um...ok, so one more thing before we start! The book excerpt in here is from an actual book that I have and that some of you might even have, especially seeing how it is another one of GREGORY MAGUIRE'S wonderful books! So, bonus points to anyone who can tell me which of his books it's from, and even MORE bonus points to anyone who can tell me what it is that they're talking about at the beginning of the excerpt, okay? :D**

**Have fun and enjoy!**

**Much love as always,  
Maggie**

* * *

Fiyero stared blankly at the wall in front of him. He'd been in his current position for the last several hours or so, just laying there on his side in the middle of the floor with his dead arm underneath himself and his good arm just gone limp in some random position he hadn't even bothered to pay any attention to. Was this what people meant when they said someone was catatonic? Or did you have to be in a coma or something to qualify as catatonic? Wait...How had he gotten here again?

He closed his eyes. Just as he'd expected, images of a million different things began to flash across the back of his eyelids; his mom laughing, the warmth in his dad's eyes even when he was at his sternest, his niece running up to him with a huge smile on her face to show off a picture she'd drawn and was so proud of, his oldest nephew laughing as he stood on top of a courtyard wall and peed from there, his other nephew coming inside with bright red cheeks and snowflakes stuck in his hair, his cousin dancing around like an idiot...and his sister.

His sister when she was only five, picking flowers for their mother. His sister two years later as she lay in bed unconscious with bandages covering her eyes after the accident that left her blind. His sister holding their niece's hand in the gardens. The feeling of her head against his chest and her body curled against his as they sat together in their favorite windowseat in the library and he read out loud to her from one of their favorite books. His sister, his sister, his sister...

And then green.  
Green? Why green?

Fiyero's eyes snapped open and he sat up, then looked around for a moment before crawling around to the other side of the bed towards the nightstand. Crawling could be a bit awkward for him with only one arm; he'd figured it out quite a while ago, but it still felt a little strange, almost like he was limping, only with his arms instead of his legs, and of course, the one arm sort of dragged on the ground as he moved. But once he'd actually figured it out and had the chance to practice a bit, he'd eventually reached the point where he could actually move pretty quickly like this. If he had only just recently started doing this, it would've taken him about a minute and a half, maybe even two minutes to reach the nightstand, but with as much practice as he'd had with it, he got there in under a minute, and then proceeded to sit himself down in front of it. Reaching into the little cubbyhole of it, he pulled out all four of the books he currently had there. He picked one up, opened it to a random page, and started reading.

_Pepper shrugged. "It's true that this is what we tell ourselves. Is the history accurate? Who knows? How could we know one way or the other? Does it matter? It's a pretty enough story." The crowd was chanting, _Free the tooth! Free the tooth! _"Can I meet Silviana?"  
"In your dreams," barked Old Flossie, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "She doesn't condescend to notice the likes of you, laddio. Besides, you have an appointment with Doctor Ill. Pepper is to take you to his den at once." She blew her nose loudly. "I do love to be reminded of our duty," she said, and cuffed Pepper on the shoulder. "And so should you, Pepper. Now get going, you, and don't keep the good Doctor waiting."_

Fiyero blinked as he involuntarily snapped the book shut.

_"But _how _did she get mutated?" Niobe asked for the fifth time in a row. Fiyero sighed as he marked their page and set the book down. "I don't _know, _Nini," he said, "it doesn't say, it just says that 'through no fault of her own, this nameless skiberee,' blah blah blah, 'happened to mutate.' If I knew how it happened, don't you think I would've told you by now?" Niobe considered this for a moment or so. "Okay," she said finally. "So...she couldn't turn invisible anymore and had a bunch of babies, is that it?"_

He blinked again, frowned at the book, then stood up, turned around, and threw it across the room. It hit an unfinished picture of his cousin right on one of his temples, then fell to the floor with a dull _thump. _Fiyero slowly walked up to the image and stared at it. He studied everything he'd drawn, from the curly dark hair to the wide smile on Dryxen's face. He sighed heavily, wishing that he'd given Dryx the chance to show him that smile one more time before he was put in this place. He hated himself for what he'd done the last time he'd seen Dryxen, and he always would for as long as he lived. He would never get the chance to apologize or anything, he'd just have to spend the rest of his life sitting in this room and hating his own guts over what had happened. He was even more of a monster than his bitch of a twin sister, and he didn't deserve to be alive. Why wasn't he dead yet? How was it that he was still breathing after saying such horrible things to Dryxen that day? _Why wasn't he dead yet after that?_

_"Dryxen, you are the most vile thing that has ever __walked the earth, and I hate you more than anything in the world, and I would give _anything _not to be related to you, you no-good son of a bitch!" _

_"Fiyero, I just__—__"  
"You just nothing, jackass! Why didn't you die instead of Asta, huh?! Why couldn't it have been you that got killed in the Grasslands?! I always liked him better, anyway, and then he died, and I got stuck with you for the rest of my life, why couldn't it have been the other way around?! I hate you, and I wish you'd never been born, I wish you didn't even exist and that Asta had been born an only child, you fucking piece of shit! I hate you, and I never want to see you again for as long as I live, so you can just go and throw yourself into Kellswater for all I care, because you're useless and you should just kill yourself anyway!"_

_Dryxen nodded, but Fiyero was oblivious to the pain in his cousin's eyes. "Well," Dryxen said quietly, "alright then. If that's how you feel, then...fine. Thank you for...for telling me the truth. Thank you for being honest with me and not trying to spare my feelings. If that, um...If that's really what you want, then that's just fine. I won't bother you anymore. I'll just leave, and...you won't ever have to see me again after this, alright? You can just...do whatever you're gonna do with yourself, and I'll stay away, I won't try to...I'll just stay out of your life from now on since you obviously don't want me in it. So, um...just..._Tanae valkan stamah jaganae, _Fiyero. Goodbye."_

_"Good _riddance."

"I'm sorry," he murmured to the sketch on the wall. "I'm sorry, Dryxen. I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry. I don't hate you. I love you. You're my cousin, you're my best friend. I don't deserve you, not after that. But I still love you. I've always loved you. And I always will. I'm sorry. I don't deserve forgivness. But I'm sorry. If I could make it better, I would. Don't forigive me, though. You shouldn't ever forgive me after what I did. I just want you to know that I'm sorry."

He pressed his cheek up against the curve of Dryxen's shoulder on the wall and closed his eyes, wishing that he could feel the fabric of his cousin's shirt instead of...whatever this wall was made out of. He wanted to feel the fabric, and the warm, solid shoulder beneath that fabric, not this cold...whatever it was. Oz...how long had it been since he'd hugged anyone? The last time he remembered giving or getting a hug was...

_"I'm sorry, Fiyero. I don't want to do this, but you've given us no other choice. _Avash sivalia, _sweetheart. You'll always be my baby boy. I'm so sorry."_

"...Mom."

Without even thinking about it, he ran back over to the nightstand and got a piece of charcoal out from the bin he kept them all in, then tucked it behind his ear as he grabbed the iron footboard of the bed with his good hand and dragged it across the room, shoving it up against the wall not far from the door. He took a few steps back and examined the blank wall before him, then nodded, took the charcoal from behind his ear, climbed up onto the bed, and began to sketch. He could see her clearly in his mind's eye, as if it had only been mere hours since he'd seen her last. He could picture every last detail perfectly, from the warmth of her smile, right down to each individual wrinkle and laugh line on her beautiful face.

She was Zerelda, but she was more than that; she was his mother. She was Mom. And before that, she'd been Mommy. She was the woman who had held him when he'd cried, told him stories before bed, kissed his bruises and scrapes, the one who'd held his hand during those terrifying moments following Niobe's injury when he thought he might have lost her, and the one who had held him close all through the night and cried along with him when he had been crying harder than he ever had before when he really _did _lose Nini.

Zerelda Tigelaar was the kindest, most warm-hearted person Fiyero knew. His mother the Queen was known for her radiant smile, warm compassion, and loving nature. From her, Fiyero had taken not only his crystal clear blue eyes and full lips, but also his former love of life, those around him, and really just the world in general. He'd gotten her sense of optimism, even though it had all but faded during his time in Ozma Psych, and her fascination with new people, her desire to learn as much about them as she could, and her ability to make and keep friends with hardly any effort at all on her part. It had always seemed to Fiyero that somehow, Zerelda had managed to figure out the perfect balance of queen, mother, and wife, so that in public, she could be all three at the same time without any of them ever gettig overcome by any of the others, but behind closed doors, the queen aspect of it went away and she became just like any other married woman with children, except, of course, for the fact that not every woman had a castle or servants. But other than that, when she was out of the public eye, Zerelda was just like any other wife and mom.

One of Fiyero's earliest memories of his mother was from when he was maybe five or six years old, and even after all these years, he still remembered it with such clarity, and sometimes, if he just closed his eyes and held perfectly still, he could still manage to catch the phantom scent of the lotion she'd had on that day; honeysuckle and lavender mixed with something else he'd never really been able to put a name to but had always struck him as being sort of...tangy, almost, or maybe a better word would be citrus-y, perhaps? Almost like an orange, but not quite. Either way, it was the first memory he had of his mother singing or playing the piano, so it was one of his favorites.

He didn't know exactly when it had happened, only that it was sometime in the winter, which he knew only because he could remember looking out the window from his mother's lap and seeing snow clinging to everything outside and seeming to faintly sparkle in the beam of dull sunlight that had managed to pierce through the gray overcast in the sky. He remembered that he had heard the sound of the piano from down the hall and followed it into a parlor, where he'd found Zerelda sitting in front of the baby grand that was in the room. She'd smiled at him, and when he reached out for her, leaned over and picked him up, setting him down on her lap. _What are you doing, Mommy? _he'd asked. She'd smiled again and sort of let her fingers drift lightly across the keys. _I'm playing piano, _she had told him, and pointed to the sheet music open in front of her. _See? This tells me which keys to push and when to push them to make the song sound the way it's supposed to._

_That doesn't look like a song, _Fiyero had said, _it just looks like a bunch of funny squiggles and stuff on a bunch of lines. _Zerelda had laughed, and even just the memory of the sound always filled him with a warm sense of security that nothing else had ever been able to equal. _It's called sheet music, sweetie, _she'd said. _It might not look like much, but when you know how to read it and do it just right..._

And then she had started playing, and from that moment on, it was one of his favorite songs in the world. Sometimes when he couldn't sleep at night, he would draw on the memory of the tune and the sound of her voice singing the lyrics as she played for comfort. His "ghost lullaby," that was what Bria had called it one time when he'd told her about it.

What he wouldn't give to hear his mom singing to him again...

* * *

**AN: UGH, is it Friday yet?! I WANNA FREAKING GO TO THE LAKE CABIN ALREADY! I WANNA FREAKING SEE FREDDIE THE GIANT BASSET HOUND!**

**No, seriously, this dog is like ENORMOUS, one of his paws is about the same size as my brother's palm, I kid you not, no exaggeration! He's huge and slobbery and needs a bath, but he is an absolute sweetheart and he likes grahm crackers! Yep. Freddie. Loves. Grahm crackers. :)**

**AND I WANNA GO SEE HIM, WHY IS IT NOT FRIDAY YET?!**

**Oh, and before I forget, Arjiki translation!**

**_Tanae valkan stamah jaganae: _Pronounced as "tah-nay valkan stah-mah jah-gah-nay," and it means, "May the gods and spirits bless you," as in like the gods and spirits that their ancestors believed in, you know?  
**


End file.
